


Iron Shadow

by starlight_reveries



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternative Religious Views, Fantasy, Gen, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 01:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_reveries/pseuds/starlight_reveries
Summary: Idk man, it's just a story from a challenge on Books & Writing Amino. (Based on Night Vale)





	Iron Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you know, I'm not trying to demonize Christianity, I'm just posing a random short story from a visual writing prompt. Don't like? Then don't read.

Original Post From B&WA (If you want to see the picture or whatever):http://aminoapps.com/p/2mnvyv4

The cold wind whipped across the sun-stained tiles of the two-story home. Of course, that is assuming that tiles can be 'sun-stained' in a place where there are three moons and no sun. In one of the house's rooms lay a young woman.  
She tossed and turned, for, once again, the angels had gotten into her dreams. They haunted her with shadows and keys and confusion, tossing her consciousness from one to another like a tormented ball.  
A long time before, when she was young, Isabelle had wandered deep into her grandfather's corn fields. The corn had whispered to her.  
'We will attempt to protect you child,' they had said, 'they will come for you, and we won't be able to stop them.' The children of the corn had tried to help. But eventually, they had fallen before God's angels. It had started out small, like most things. Candles, and books, and plants, and whatnot. But, like those things, her problem grew.  
The torment went from once a month to once a week, then to every day. Once, the demons of Hell had tried to interfere, to protect her, as was thier duty. But they had failed. And thusly, the dreams, sent by God, grew in intensity.  
Isabelle jolted awake. A key. She was tormented by thoughts of a key tonight. Heavy, black iron. She threw off the covers, looking quickly around her room. Bathed in blue light, posters hung from the walls, light played across the desk, and her own face stared back at her from the mirror, bleeding black from ears, eyes, nose.  
She shook her head, flung open her door, and walked out to her porch. The three moons glowed bright, blue, gold, green in a lavender sky. Closing her eyes, she turned to go back inside. When her kids lifted, her vision fell upon a desk drawer, which seemed to be glowing black.  
In three steps, she was there, sliding the drawer open. Within sat a wonderous, Satan's gift, no doubt important...journal. Isabelle picked up the black-bound book, confusion painted across her face.  
She flipped through, and, upon finding it entirely empty, her brow creased. She stood up, resolving to look at the journal in her room.  
As she headed for the stairs, her foot caught on the rug. The book fell from her grasp, landing wide open in the dancing light of the moons, which leaked in through the window. Upon the page were two things.  
'You know what to do' read the words. Next to them was a drawing of a key, hanging from a simple leather pendant. Not quite sure what she was doing, or what would happen because of it, she crawled over to the book and glanced up at the moons.  
Looking down, she reached over and touched the drawing of the key. But it wasn't a drawing anymore. It was a real key, warmed by the touch of another. Isabelle lifted it up, and slipped the leather around her neck as she stood. The key disappeared in the lack of moonlight.

Hours later, she sat in school, listening to her teachers drone on, when a clawed finger tapped at her back. Isabelle turned, eyes catching on the girl behind her, who suddenly looked entirely different. Her teeth were sharp, and there were way too many. She had a third eye, right in the middle of her forehead, and tattoos as black as onyx, but glowing the color of blood laced her arms. A bright almost blinding halo hovered over her gold hair.  
"Hey Isa, nice necklace."


End file.
